


kiss the ring

by sirenic (noctiphany)



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 03:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/sirenic
Summary: Chanyeol was meant to be gone hours ago, a duffle bag full of cash in the back seat of his car, riding the high that always makes him feel invincible.





	kiss the ring

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: chanyeol/kris kiss the ring!! :D

Chanyeol thinks he's joking. At first. When he holds out his hand, Chanyeol laughs.   
  
Wu Yifan does not.   
  
Chanyeol tries not to panic. He's not stupid. He can make something up. He can come up with something that will blow their fucking minds if Yifan will just stop staring at him like he's a lion and Chanyeol is a little lost gazelle about to become his dinner. Yifan owns this club, owns nearly all the clubs in Seoul and every person who works in them. Chanyeol doesn't work for him, but Yifan still looks at him like he does. Or maybe he looks at him like he wants to.   
  
Yifan raises his eyebrows, a silent threat hidden in the gold flecks in his eyes, and Chanyeol lowers himself to his knees. Yifan's wrist is loose where his arm rests on the side of his chair, an ornate throne in the middle of a den of iniquity, long, slender fingers dangling over the edge. Chanyeol doesn't belong here, on his knees, pressing his lips to the silver and gold rings decorating Yifan's fingers. He was meant to be gone hours ago, a duffle bag full of cash in the back seat of his car, riding the high that always makes him feel invincible.   
  
Yifan's fingers grip Chanyeol's chin before he can move away and holds him there, black eyes that glitter with gold boring into his own. Chanyeol doesn't feel very invincible right now.   
  
"You're good," Yifan says, lips curling into -- not quite a smirk, it has too much teeth for that. "You should be working for me."   
  
I work for you, you own me, Chanyeol thinks. No one owns me. No one should own anyone.   
  
Behind him, Yifan's lieutenants are strapped to the teeth and twice the size of Chanyeol in height, muscle, and weight. The room is too small for him to use his speed to get around them, weasel his way out. There's too many of them to fight and make it out alive. Probability. Statistics. It's what Chanyeol majored in. It's what makes him the best and most wanted card counter in all of South Korea.   
  
Yifan cocks his head, looks at him like he's a shiny new toy that he wants to take apart, just to see how it works.   
  
Chanyeol calculates the probability, weighs his options. Runs the statistics again as Yifan stares at him. Then he takes a shallow breath and lets his mouth slip into a slow grin, too much tease in it to be a smirk.  
  
"Where do I put in my application."


End file.
